Auspicious Failure
by Nomia
Summary: Classic Cindy and Jimmy, always fighting and degrading one another... until they are thrown into adventure once again and are given an image of themselves in an entirly different, and completely unexpected, way.
1. A milkshake and intervention, please

"I'm telling you, Carl, llamas can't be in a chart-topping rock band!"

Sheen, looking at his obese friend rather indignantly, crossed his arms across his chest. Carl was not one to let his obsessions shot down so easily. He gave a nasally scoff and folded his own arms.

"How would _you_ know?" he accused, narrowing his eyes and raising one eyebrow, (not a fully workable combination, giving him a rather odd appearance,) "Have you ever _seen_ a band with llamas in it?"

Sheen sighed, turning his face heavenwards. "No! That's my _point_, Carl!"

"Well, how do you know there _isn't_ one, then?" Carl demanded with an accusatorily pointed finger. "They may just be working their way to the top at a slower pace because they sell their soft, cotton and polyester tee-shirts for a lower price than the rest of the publicity-bloated bands!"

Sheen shook his head and turned away from an outraged Carl. "Jimmy, would you mind telling my friend here that a band's success does not depend upon the prices of their highly uncomfortable and cheap shirts but the quality of the music – and band-member species?"

Jimmy, far too used to the minor and rather strange contradicting arguments between his two best friends to let it hinder him in his work, continued to tinker with the latest invention in his lap, not even looking up as he replied, "Sheen, I'm sure a band could sing Carl's 'Folding and Hanging' song and make it big if their merchandise followed short-living teen trends."

Sheen clutched at his chest, dramatically crying, "Never! Long live qualitable refrain!" He fell backwards, flopping into the grass beneath the tree Jimmy was sitting cross-legged under.

"You've been sharing too much DNA with Libby, Sheen," Jimmy commented, tightening a screw before setting his tool aside. "You're starting to take on her qualities."

"Uhh, ex_cuse me_?" a very indignant voice said, approaching the patch of grass where Jimmy was seated and splashing his form with a shadow. The young genius looked up to see Libby herself, one hand on a hip, enraged chesnut eyes burning holes through him and into the tree beyond. Cindy stood a pace behind her friend, arms crossed and face hosting a look that plainly screamed "idiot".

Libby continued, scowling deeply and waving a finger. "That is on'y the business of me'n'Sheen!" She took a seat next to said teenager, taking ahold of his hand but looking no less peeved. Cindy, obviously hoping for a much more dynamic punishment for Jimmy, rolled her eyes.

"What do you two want, anyways?" Jimmy asked, casting a disgusted and cautious look up at Cindy, who smiled nastily back and did not refrain from holding her tongue any longer.

"We just wanted to see what form of world destruction you were cooking up this time," she said cooly, observing the pink fingernail polish on one hand.

Jimmy scowled as he stood, cracking his back in three different places. "Oh, joy. Let me break out the confetti!" He winced and arched his back, popping a few more vertebrae that had settled during his prolonged out-door tune-ups.

"Don't listen to her, Jimmy!" Sheen called into the tree branches as he remained laying on his back. He pointed the hand that was not being held in Libby's up in the air to emphasize his words. "Your mass destruction almost never endangers human life and is highly entertaining!"

Jimmy rolled his eyes upwards, severly irritated at the "helpful" comments Sheen put in constantly. Cindy was torn between a smirk and a overwrought "tch!". She looked from the Hispanic boy to his girlfriend, who was looking pensieve at her choice in make-out partners, to Carl, who had settled himself onto the lawn and was contenting himself quietly by prodding a stray pine cone along the grass.

Turning back to her original victim, she asked, "So what is it, Neutron?"

Jimmy hesitated, not wishing to subject himself to more tormenting but dearly wanting to share his latest product with someone who held the brain capacity to understand.

"It's an animal expositor," he said at last, pausing to put his thoughts into simplified terms. "I've adjusted the settings of a standard vocal language interpreter to project out – in English – what an animal is attempting to communicate by inserting a DNA chip. With 317 animal species and classfications on record, it will work on just about any creature."

Cindy looked at the device in his hands doubtfully, placing a hand on her slender hip. "And just _how_ many times have you checked this thing for bugs?"

"Twice," Jimmy responded confidently, curling a lip at the aprehensive look Cindy shot him.

"So no need to head to the bomb shelter; Goddard's expando-sheild will work just fine?" she quipped.

At hearing his name mentioned, Goddard lifted his head from his paws and looked over at the group, shaking off effects of sleep mode and standing up on the chair in front of Jimmy's clubhouse that he had been laying on in the late-afternoon sun.

"It's fine, boy," Jimmy growled, glowering at Cindy once more as she continued to smirk. "Yes, Vortex, it's perfectly safe. I'll know it's perfectly _functional_ when a proper setting is created to decifer what you attempt to disclose."

Not giving her a chance to respond, Jimmy suggested openly to a stop at the Candy Bar, which was readliy accepted by all in the yard. Libby seemed to hurry out of the yard the quickest, Sheen in tow, obviously wishing to not only escape the sweltering heat of the May afternoon but the explosive temper that had begun to boil within Cindy. Jimmy followed, throwing a triumphantly smug look at Cindy, who tagged onto the group, seething. Carl came lumbering up behind, panting and gasping.

* * *

"How brainless do you have to be to actually believe something as scientifically uncorrect and disprovable as _that?_" 

"I don't know; how brainless do you have to be to actually think that Australia is a country?"

"Oh, do we _have _to bring this up again! I've already disproved you on this; how many repatitions until something gets through to that non-existant mind?"

"Hah! As non-existant as your ability to create a working invention?"

Libby sighed heavily, leaning into a cupped hand. With the other, she swirled her milkshake with her red-and-white striped straw. She, Carl, and Sheen had left the two quarrelers to battle it out some time ago, taking their orders and drifting two or three tables over. The intensity of their argument had risen, though, and with that had come an increased volume. Even Sam had crankily retreated to a back room after trying and failing to kick them out three times.

"Uhg! The sooner they kiss it out, the better for all of us!"

Sheen slipped an arm across her shoulders with a suave, "You said it, chicky-babes. The poor, misguided children."

Carl glanced up from his bowl of ice cream to stare down at the red-faced and still screaming Jimmy and Cindy. "Well, I don't see how making us barf is supposed to help. I can hardly handle _you_ two!" He pointed a french frie at Libby and Sheen before dipping it into his Choco-mundo Surprise and popping it into his mouth.

Making a face, Libby muttered, "As if _that_ wasn't disgusting…"

"Yeah, Carl," Sheen scoffed, sticking out his tongue, "you completely forgot the cherry syrup! What the heck is your problem?"

Libby sighed again, throwing off her boyfriend's arm and letting her head fall onto the table. She muttered into the laminant top, "Or maybe I just need to find new friends…"

Unknown to the present company of friends, an observer chuckled, small eyes fixed on a television screen hungrily. "How delicious," he murmered ino the small, dark, and entirly empty room he was situated in. He pressed a button on the keyboard in his lap, panning his camera from the distraught Libby over to the furious and aggrivated Cindy and Jimmy, still shouting at each other for all they were worth, orders forgotton on the table that was separating them. "Very soon, now…"

* * *

A/N: The first chapter of… something. About the shortest thing I've written so far. It's just a side-story to work on while My Life Is A Shakespearian Play is in a state of choas. I wrote a future chapter of this during a VERY boring math class one day – to be introduced about half-way through – so it will be interesting to see where this heads until then. Toss me a review or two; let me know what you think so far. And please, take time to pick out every misspelled word...-cough- (I _know_, they don't really matter, but they do.) 


	2. Huzzah for adventurerers!

Jimmy idley doodled on the blank page of the notebook before him, completely rebuffing the command given from Miss Fowl to take key notes from the chapter in the text book she was reading from. He had surpassed failing to know the chapter topic by forgetting what subject they were studying. He glanced up at the chalkboard, hoping to catch an aiding hint, but it was still cluttered with month-old announcements and equations and problems unbefitting to their sixth grade class.

He stared down at his paper again, his apt boredom slaked slightly as he watched the tip of his pen leave a smooth trail of blue ink behind, connecting and crossing with other lines until a rough sketch of a faceless teacher being fed to blood-thirsty Gorlockians was visible. But even wild fantasies were not enough to capture his interest for long. He dropped the pen onto his desktop with a slight clatter and rested his jaw upon his open palm.

Looking over Cindy's shoulder, Jimmy could just make out the school playground. Compared to the misery that was the never-ending school day, even the whimsical activities ment for the younger students seemed appearling. The swings swayed in the light spring breeze, mocking him in his captivity.

"Shut up," he muttered into his hand, arching his stiff back.

Cindy seemed to have heard him; she turned her head and curled a lip at him. "You say something, Nerd-tron?"

Jimmy sighed heavily, eyes drooping in the afternoon heat. "I said you are a bitter, self-concious little witch with bad taste in pants."

Cindy scowled darkly at him but, after glacing behind him at Miss Fowl as she made her way down the desk aisle, turned back to the three pages of notes she had already dutifully taken to add on some other little tidbit that she most likely knew already. Jimmy continued to stare, both too lazy to turn his eyes in a different direction and strangly facinated at the way she mouthed what she was writing.

As was the strange sense with the majority of humans, Cindy could feel him watching her and once more spun her head around to glare at him. She mouthed, "What are you looking at?"

Jimmy thought it ridiculous of her to ask when she perfectly well knew the object at the end of his line of vision, elsewise she wouldn't have glowered nastily. He didn't have the energy or will to lift his head from his hand, though, let alone start an argument, so he simply and honestly mouthed back, "You."

Cindy blinked, both surprised and confused at this blatent truth. After a moment or two of gawking she turned back to her notes, making several incorrect starts and needing to scribble them out before continuing, leaving bright pink marrings amidst her immaculate lines of neatly-printed notes. He watched the words emerge from the point of her rapidly-moving pen, successfully obtaining the subject-matter of their torturous lecture: the Revolutionary War.

Smiling at this minor victory, Jimmy turned to a fresh page in his notebook – one free from educationers' gruesome deaths – and began to scrawl out a brief summary of the eighteen books and four video documentaries he had read and seen about the war. He ironically thought of how much more detailed his diluted version would be than what Miss Fowl was spewing out and _far_ more than would be necessary for any test. Good grief, how he _loved _elementary school.

Jimmy cringed with the rest of the class when the overhead speaker screeched and crackled to life. He automatically looked up at the electronic box as the principal's garbled voice strained through.

"Miss Cynthia Vortex, would you please come to my office _right_ now."

Cindy was not nearly as concerned as her already-whispering classmates were and shrugged nonchelantly as she walked sleepily to Miss Fowl's desk, accepting the hall pass without complaint. As she passed by him, Jimmy stared enviously at the Get-Out-Of-Hell-Free pass in her hand. Had the offer of passing "Go" and collecting 200 dollars applied, he would he vaulted over his desk and jumped her for it.

Jimmy turned to Libby, talking softly over the rest of their classmates and Miss Fowl trying to quiet them down, "How'd _she_ get so lucky?"

Libby shrugged, looking at the classroom door as it swung shut questioningly. "What's Willoughby want, I wonder?"

Jimmy was unable to answer this. He too looked at the door before his attention was grabbed by the clock face: still an hour and seventeen minutes until the bell would ring, signalling their release until Monday morning. He sighed and turned back to his notebook after watching the second hand make a revolution around the slightly illuminated face. After what should have been not only the rest of that Friday but well into the next as well, Jimmy looked up again: 48 minutes remaining – though Cindy's desk had not yet been returned an owner.

The minutes seeped by, bleeding together until the remainder of class had been spent, and still Cindy did not return. It was against his better judgement and will that Jimmy began to worry. He glanced over at Libby, who was expressing her similar concern physically: she was chewing on what remained of her fingernails and staring aptly at the door, as if willing it through mind power to open and reveal her best friend.

As the final, liberating bell rang, Libby lept up and sprinted for the door, barely snatching her bag up in time. Jimmy followed, his shorter legs making it a more difficult to keep up. The pair didn't have to travel far, fortunatly enough for the young genius, as Cindy was slumped on the ground in front of her locker, one leg bent and head lolling against her chest.

"Cindy!" With her state of anxiety given a solid reassurance, Libby was nearing a complete basket case. She slid to her knees next to her friend, but seemed afraid to touch her. She gingerly placed a hand on Cindy's shoulder as Jimmy came up behind panting.

"Cin?" Libby tried again, shaking her gently. This, combined with the stomping of dozens of pairs of feet that had begun to pour from the classrooms lining the hall, roused Cindy. Libby let out a breath; even Jimmy was surprised to feel a strong sense of relief.

With a groan, Cindy lifted her hands up and clutched her head. "Owww – what happened?"

"That's what _I'd_ like to know, girl!" Libby growled, her trepidations from the past hour able to come freely with the knowledge that her friend was breathing. "What _happened_ to you!"

Cindy winced and folded her legs against her chest, eyes clamped shut as a blockade against the glaring flourecent lights. "I don't know. I – don't think I ever made it to the Willoughby's office."

Jimmy's focus was not upon Cindy but instead a small paper sqaure that had fallen out of her clenched fist as she had instinctivly reached for her throbbing head. He crouched down and picked it up between two fingers. Cindy's flimsy purple hall pass had been crunched around the item of Jimmy's interest; he carefully peeled it away from the thick, yellow paper. The two-by-four inch cardstock rectangle had been immaculately folded three times over itself, creating eight little squares. Upon it were some well-thought and rather sinister words that merited some planning.

On cue, Sheen and Carl clawed their way through the flowing crowd of students eager to be home and joined the small party as Cindy was unsteadily clamboring to her feet with the aid of Libby. Jimmy melted smoothly into the passing current, calling over his shoulder, "Come on, guys."

Carl seemed ostracized at the suggestion of worming his way back through the masses, but Sheen immeadiately picked up Jimmy's tone. With an acrobatic leap over the half-risen Cindy, he shouted, "Huzzah! Adventure once more befalls ours group of misfit adventurer-ers!"

"Sheen, you said '-er' twice," Libby commented, supporting much of Cindy's weight.

"And nothing's happened yet," Carl added, on tiptoe trying to skirt the people that threatened to knock him off balance. "How can something befall us if we don't even know what it is? And Jimmy might just decide to skip this one… maybe… I hope… well, he _could_!"

Cindy was not oriented enough just yet to scoff at anything. Jimmy simply chose to remain silent as he fell back to help half-carry her.

* * *

A/N: I was hoping to make this chapter longer, but it seemed to like where it was at this, and I knew if I tried to fight what the chapter wanted I would go on forever and progressivly make it worse. Never fight the chapter. Hope you enjoyed, and many thanks to those who reviewed last chappie!

**Halfa-Goddess: **You're just going to have to wait to find out, aren't you? Muahah, I love having that kind of power! Though I do love him just as much; what a power he has to bring our lovers together! Anyways, this was just a little tribute to school so far. I hope I've captured the proper sentiment.  
**JCFOREVER: **Gah, I should use sarcasm more sparingly. But thanks! And glad you liked it!  
**acosta pèrez josè ramiro: **Thank you!  
**Kyuugi:** GAH, anything but Barney! I did hash out a chapter for MLiaSP – or close to – in the car when I went to Disneyland last week, but those dang transitions have gotten to me again. I hope to have it up soon. Glad you liked this despite my terrible writer/hilarious reviewer loyalties.  
**Barlee:** Well, the _chapter_ was short and lame, so it all works out! Gah, how unbelievably short it was… GAH! Anyways, no, they're still 11; just after some time. Hopefully an upcoming episode…8D! AH! YES, I mean saliva! XD LOL, why do you have to mention these things! And don't worry: I won't give up on Mliasp. I just don't know how long it will be until I force myself to get those stinking transition quirks worked out.  
**TheInVisibleGirl:** Thank you, and okay!  
**ReddistheRose: **Heehee, thank you!  
**Geoff Welch: **Thank you much, and I hope you stick around to find out! I'm rather partial to Eustace myself, though…00 –cough-  
**KuteInsanity:** I'll take "interesting". Hope you stick around for a "great" or even maybe a "fab"!  
**WeAsLeYkid8: **Ahh, I'm mean like that! Glad you liked it!  
**kingdom219: **About a month in my world. Hope this was worth any waiting!  
**Cutie5: **It's been great to be so connected to your work now! I'm glad you're still willing to take the time and throw a few words at mine. Thanks bunches!  
**romancejunkie: **Baaah, okay then! Not much, but it's more!


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